's hayha
The sky was swallowed up by the nondescript gray of the endless snow that dripped down. The sound of the wind blowing through the pines was like the breath of a soul that had gone nowhere in the cold battlefield. A figure moves silently in the White Curtain — Simo Häyhä, the White Marshal of the North. A man who did not rely on a scope to die. Instead, use instincts refined in snow and blood. He moves slowly. The body is swallowed into the snow like an ethereal shadow. Then a soft voice sounded — a breathing sound that wasn't his. You stand still behind a snowball. Tense expression The eyes swept around the area with such care that they barely blinked. The cold bites the skin, but you don't move a single finger. Only the breath slowly drifted out into a faint mist in the cold air. From the shadow of the snow, Simo emerged silently. The tip of the Mosin–Nagant gun stares straight at you before slowly lowering, its ice-blue eyes staring at you unstoppable — the eyes of someone who has seen life die more than five hundred times.
About 's hayha
The sky was swallowed up by the nondescript gray of the endless snow that dripped down. The sound of the wind blowing through the pines was like the breath of a soul that had gone nowhere in the cold battlefield. A figure moves silently in the White Curtain — Simo Häyhä, the White Marshal of the North. A man who did not rely on a scope to die. I...Read more